To Fix a Broken Heart
by Rosibo
Summary: Caryl reunion scene following Season 4. This is a one-shot set after Terminus has fallen. I'm not dealing with the outcome of that story arc, only the reunion of the main body of the group with Tyreese, Carol and Judith, with almost complete focus on Caryl. If that sounds like your thing, come on in!


A/N: Hey there, I'm Rosie and this is the first thing I've written in...ooh, must be four years nearly? And the first thing I've ever written for The Walking Dead!

Basically, I totally frickin chickin love that show, and think Daryl is the absolute balls. And yes, I'm a Caryl shipper, you got me.

The following is just a little reunion scenario that played out in my head following the end of Season 4. It starts just as the group reunite with Carol, Tyreese and Judith, and it is safe to assume that Terminus is gone and over, and we are all happy dappy and back together!

This fic focusses almost completely on Daryl and Carol, with a bit of Tyreese and just a dash of Rick thrown in there. It is just a one shot, cause I have no idea where I'd take this beyond the ending I've written here.

Anyway, enough rambling. Enjoy, and please excuse any English spellings...I am English and will therefore write as such but I don't think there's too many words in there that have different spellings anyway.

Read, review (even just to tell me to stop writing, for the love of God!) and drop me a fave if the desire striketh you ;)

To Fix a Broken Heart

Carol's heart seemed to stop dead as their eyes met across the bare expanse of ground, the dry red earth lay dusty and undisturbed over those mere twenty metres that stretched between them. She could hear the rest of the group beside her as bodies collided in fierce embraces. Someone was crying. Tears of relief? She could hear voices. Laughter. But couldn't for the life of her comprehend what they were saying. Her ears heard them but her brain couldn't process the buzz over the beat of her heart, pounding up her spine and rattling her skull. So much bustle and noise, but all she could do was stare into those eyes. _His_ eyes. Eyes that she'd never dared to hope she would look into again. Just days had passed since the fall of the prison, yet it felt like a lifetime.

She couldn't read the expression in his eyes. All she could see was the familiar shade of blue. Not clear, bright blue like her own, but a deep blue. A dark blue, like the ocean under stormy skies. Dangerous and beautiful. And right now, wider and more dazzling than she'd ever seen them, with a shimmering glassiness down to emotion or pure exhaustion, she couldn't quite decide. Perhaps both, as was the case in her own.

How much actual time passed in that moment, she couldn't say. Everything had seemed to slow down from the moment he stepped out from behind Rick, his crossbow, so familiar a sight that it seemed he would be almost incomplete without it, slung behind his back. His angel-wing vest, more tattered than the last time she'd seen it, still hung over his frame. All the things he carried, all these things that made him, him. They felt like home to her.

Briefly, she let her eyes roam across his face. Had his hair been that long the last time she saw him? Had he had that many lines on his face? No, she decided. Something, or somethings, had happened in that week that had broken him down. She knew, because she felt those same lines on her face, one for every time her heart had broken. And she'd felt a lot of new lines appear in the past few days. She saw his busted lip and his blackened eye, and all she could think was how she wanted to clean the blood away and bandage him up, as she had done so many times back at the prison.

Her eyes settled back upon his. He blinked, and it was enough to wake her from her reverie. He was there. Daryl. He was there staring at her. And he was alive.

Before she knew it her feet were moving, at first slow, then faster. She felt her face contort as she tried to hold back the onslaught of tears that she knew was coming. He seemed to waken too as she started into a run, his feet taking slow steps to meet her. He moved almost tentatively, as you would approach a wild animal, fearing it could bolt with any sudden movement. Only it was a different fear that held him back. The fear that this moment would melt away, and he'd wake up on the floor of a rusting train cart, and she would be gone again.

When mere feet remained between them, he seemed to gain courage, and his final step to meet her was longer. Purposeful. And they collided with equal fervour as she threw her arms around his shoulders, just as his own curled around her waist and pulled her to him with such a force that the air was knocked from her lungs, and broke from her mouth in a sob. And once the tears started, she found there was no way she could stop them. So with her face buried in his neck as he pressed his cheek to her hair, she let out the hurt and fear and relief in a wave of tears washing up onto his muddy shirt collar.

She cried for Lizzie, and Mika. She cried for Karen and David. So many deaths, and all her fault. She could feel the guilt that she'd so far managed to suppress come bubbling up to the surface, and her hands fisted in the back of Daryl's collar as he held her tighter to his chest. Would he hate her if he knew? Somewhere in the back of her mind it registered that this was the first real body to body contact that she'd ever had with Daryl. And he had instigated it as much as she had. He mustn't know what she'd done then. What she had become. Surely he would hate her as Rick now did. She should tell him. It felt like lying, allowing him to hold her. But she couldn't stop the tears. Couldn't bring herself to release him.

More and more conflicting emotions rose up and up inside her until she felt like her mind was screaming. The blood pulsed in her ears and whooshed through her head. All external noises ceased until all the remained was the sounds of her internal struggle. Thumping, whooshing, screaming, shouting, wailing. Getting louder and louder and louder. She could no longer feel her legs or her arms, just the erratic thrumming of her heart against her chest like deafening rhythmic explosions inside her. Suffocating her. And the last thing she felt before the blackness engulfed her was the warmth of his strong arms holding her close to him, and she thought that above all the noise in her head, she heard his soft whisper in her ear.

"Carol?"

—-

She was in his arms. He'd never thought he'd see her again, yet here she was, her face pressed to his neck and her fists clinging to his shirt like she was drowning. He was so sure that even if she had managed to survive on her own out there, even if she defied all expectations, the state was so damn big that he hadn't a hope in hell of finding her. But she was here. Just one more time that Carol proved him wrong. She was so much stronger than anyone ever gave her credit for, himself included. Even as she clung to him, weeping and convulsing. And that knowledge of her strength made him wonder just what had cut her so deep to break her down into the quaking mess in his arms.

He suddenly felt angry. With himself for doubting her. With Rick for kicking her out in the first place. With whatever the hell was hurting her so much right now. He held her tighter to him. Made a silent promise to fix whatever had broken her. To never let her go again. He owed her that much. After all, it was she who'd fixed him over the years. He wasn't so much of a stubborn ass not to see that.

He became aware that the rest of the group had stopped, and turned their attention to the embracing pair. He looked to his family, and saw the same mixture of emotions on their faces as he felt inside. Joy. Relief. Fear. All except Tyreese, who gazed upon Carol with tears in his own eyes that spoke of pity. Carol and Tyreese had been through something. Daryl felt a pang akin to jealousy at that, but it was overridden, for the time being, with the need to know what it was that had happened to them.

He turned his attention back to the woman in his arms. Each whimper from her mouth seemed to send a pulse into his chest that gripped his heart and squeezed it uncomfortably. He just wanted her tears to stop. Wanted to see her smile at him. He lowered his face to her hair. He hadn't realised how long it was getting. Just another thing he took for granted. Over the past few days, he'd wished so hard that he had paid more attention. Memorised her face, her laugh. He stood and breathed her in for a moment, and marvelled at how much she felt like home to him.

As he mulled that thought over in his head, he felt her whole body become tense. The weeping stopped, and her breathing became erratic. He loosened his hold on her and pulled back to see her face. Her eyes were screwed shut, her face contorted in, what was that? Pain?

"Carol?" he spoke gruffly but softly.

As if a switch was flicked, her body went slack, her face relaxed and he caught her as her legs buckled. He lifted her gently into his arms as her head lolled back over his arm.

"Carol?" he said more urgently. She gave no response.

Daryl looked up desperately to the rest of the group, confusion and fear etched onto his features. Immediately Bob and Tyreese rushed forward, as the former pressed his fingers to Carol's neck in search of a pulse.

"What's going on? She OK?" Tyreese asked worriedly.

"I think so," Bob answered calmly, "looks like she had a panic attack. Don't know about the passing out though, maybe exhaustion?" He looked to Tyreese.

"Would make sense. She hasn't been sleeping so much past few days," Tyreese answered solemnly, "a lot's happened, you know."

"So what the hell's that mean?" Daryl asked desperately, looking at Bob in confusion, "She's gonna be alright, right?"

"We need to get her laid down. Try and get some water in her." Bob answered, turning to face the rest of the group.

"We've been staying in a place not far from here past few days." Tyreese offered.

"How far?" Rick piped up.

"Not far. Hour or so from here. Through the woods."

"Think you can find it again?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, think so. Was a pretty straight path through the trees."

Rick nodded and turned to face Daryl.

"OK, let's go. Daryl, you good to carry her?" he asked.

"Yeah let's just get movin'. Which way?" Daryl replied quickly.

"This way." Tyreese led the group away from the open patch of ground beside the train tracks where they stood, and led the way into the tree line, Daryl hot on his heels with an unresponsive Carol in his tired arms.

The walk seemed like forever to Daryl, not because of the what seemed like ever-increasing strain on his arms, although that played a factor. But for the entire walk, Carol showed no signs of waking, or even stirring. His eyes barely left her face for the entire trek, willing her as hard as he could into consciousness.

Twice Rick approached him and offered to take her from him, as did Tyreese, but Daryl shrugged them both off. She was under his protection now. Plus, if she woke up he wanted to be the first face she saw. Wanted her to know that he was there, and was going to be there from now on. Maybe he was being overprotective, but he didn't care. He just needed to feel her weight in his arms. Needed the reminder that she was here with him again. That he wasn't dreaming.

The place Tyreese had spoken of was what looked like some kind of holiday home. A big three story house, the white paint a stark contrast to the deep green foliage stretching in every direction. The house could've been picked right out of the suburbs and dropped into the woods, if not for the thick ivy creeping up it's walls.

Like all houses since all this began, it looked run down and neglected, but walls were walls and as the light was fading, the run down relic resembled a five-star hotel to the troupe of weary feet and minds, and certainly far more friendly than the dark, cold train cart the majority of them had come uncomfortably accustomed to.

Rick, Glenn, Michonne and Tyreese went ahead into the house, guns, and sword, raised. Daryl held Carol to him, impatiently shifting his weight from foot to foot, his eyes switching between the house and the unconscious form in his arms.

It took only a minute or two before Tyreese stood in the doorway and announced it was clear. Daryl, immediately started towards the door, keen to get Carol comfortable, and take the weight from his arms.

Tyreese led them in and told Daryl to follow him up the stairs. They turned into a bedroom just off the first floor landing. The bedroom was just one of what Daryl guessed to be around five. This room was pretty bare, with just a double bed, bedside cabinet, an old wooden chair, and chest of drawers. The lamp upon the bedside table served only as an ornament since the loss of electricity, but that, coupled with the painting of lilies hung above the bed gave the room a homely feel.

"This is where she's been staying with Judith. I preferred sleeping on the couch downstairs, you know, so I'd hear if anything tried to get in," Tyreese told him as they approached the bed, "I say sleeping, but I don't think either of us managed much of that."

Tyreese pulled the covers back from the bed as Daryl placed Carol carefully onto the mattress. He lifted her torso as he worked to remove her jacket, and Tyreese removed her boots. Jacket removed, he lowered her head gently onto the pillow, took her knife from it's holster and placed it on the bedside cabinet, pulling the covers back over her.

"I'm gonna go get her some water. Owner's of this place were real fans of bottled water. Guess with being this far in the woods, they liked to stock up," Tyreese said, before turning to leave the room.

Daryl nodded, grunting a thank you as he watched Tyreese head out onto the landing and head down the stairs. He turned back to look down at the woman before him. He chewed his lip, unsure what to do now. He supposed he just had to wait. His eyes found the tattered chair in the corner of the room. He crossed to pick it up and dragged it over to the bed. He sat heavily in it, his exhaustion finally taking hold.

He could hear the others bustling around below, giggling and talking excitedly. Daryl didn't understand how they could be so happy when one of their own was up here in the state she was in. But then, he supposed, they all had each other. They were all reunited, and they were all OK. The only person he had cared about seeing again was right here in front of him, and he knew that if she'd been awake and alright, he'd be laughing too.

As the seconds ticked by, he wished harder and harder that she'd just open her damn eyes. If only so he'd know that she was going to be OK. Bob had said she was just exhausted, but he hadn't really checked her out. How'd they know she didn't have something worse going on. Why did nobody seem as worried as he did? Maybe he was being irrational. Yeah, that was it. She'd be fine, he just needed to calm down, get his shit together for when she woke up.

He dropped his head into his hands and tried to control his breathing. He was so tired. He couldn't remember the last time he got any real undisturbed sleep. He felt his eyes droop shut just as Tyreese reappeared in the doorway.

"Still nothing?" Tyreese asked, the concern showing in his tone.

"No, nothin'," Daryl replied tiredly, lifting his head up and taking the bottle of water from Tyreese before he had a chance to offer it.

He unscrewed the cap, placing it on the table before gently lifting her head and placing the bottle to her lips. He poured just a few drops onto her lips, as unconsciously but instinctively her lips parted and she swallowed the cold liquid. He took a swig himself before replacing the cap, offering it to Tyreese. He shook his head, so Daryl placed it on the table beside Carol's knife.

They remained in uncomfortable silence for a few moments, both gazing upon Carol's sleeping form, before Daryl's curiosity got the better of him.

"What happened to her, man?" He mumbled dejectedly, not taking his eyes from her. "Ain't never seen her like that before."

Tyreese sighed, before crossing the room and sitting on the bed beside her legs. Daryl looked up to see Tyreese looking down at Carol, that same pity he'd seen earlier in his eyes.

"I know she killed Karen and David," Tyreese started, "I know, and I forgave her that, cause she paid her dues with what happened after."

Daryl frowned. What was that supposed to mean. He was about to ask when Tyreese continued.

"I escaped the prison with Judith, and Lizzie and Mika. Carol found us outside just after, she saw everything that happened there."

Daryl started to see where this was going. Lizzie and Mika weren't with them now. He swallowed thickly. He knew that if Carol lost them, it would be like Sophia all over again. Tyreese continued.

"We travelled around together a few days. Found this little grove. Nice house, where we stayed a couple of days. Thought we could stay there, build some kinda life for the girls, you know?"

He paused. Daryl waited for what he knew could only be an unhappy ending.

"Lizzie, she…she wasn't right. Even back at the prison, Carol said she wasn't right. Didn't understand what those things are. Thought they were still people, but you know, different. Got angry when we killed 'em. We even caught her feeding one."

Daryl's face screwed up in disgust and confusion. He'd never known the girl was like that. Carol had never said anything to him at the prison. Tyreese paused a long time before continuing, and Daryl braced himself for the rest of the story.

"She killed Mika. Lizzie. Stabbed her in the chest while Carol and I were out hunting. We got back and…the blood. Lizzie was there, with a knife in her hand. She was smiling! Wanted us to wait for Mika to turn, so that we'd _understand_. Said she was about to do the same to Judith."

Tyreese looked like the memory was going to make him sick, but he continued as Daryl sat in stunned silence.

"Carol. We had no choice. We couldn't leave Lizzie there, but we couldn't take her with us. We had Judith. So Carol…" Tyreese broke off, his head falling dejectedly to his chest.

"Ended it," Daryl finished for him.

Tyreese nodded. Daryl returned his gaze to Carol, warring with his anger at the injustice of what this woman had faced. He should've been there with her. Should've been the one to do what she had done. Carol had had enough blame fall on her shoulders. The tears, the desperation with which she'd clung to him, all fell into place, and he dropped his head to the bed beside her, his hands fisting in his hair.

They sat in silence as the weight of Tyreese's words hung over their heads. After some time, Daryl lifted his head, and looked at the man sat on the bed with glistening eyes.

"I'm sorry, man," Daryl mumbled.

"Me too," Tyreese replied, emotion heavy in his voice. He stood quickly from the bed, swiped at his eyes, and walked towards the door.

"I'll leave you to it. Let me know when she wakes up," he said as he exited onto the landing, not looking back.

Daryl turned back to Carol. He couldn't stop himself as his hand reached out to her, brushing back her hair with his fingers.

"I'm sorry," he whispered close to her ear, knowing that she wouldn't hear him.

He could feel his war with his exhaustion coming to a head, and felt his eyelids drooping. He rested his head upon the mattress next to her head, and his fingers found hers, linking them together so he could still feel her there when his eyes were closed.

He watched her as long as he could, before finally the need for sleep closed in on him, and as the last rays of sunlight disappeared from the window, he fell into blackness, knowing only that Carol was here beside him, so somehow everything would be OK.

The house was quieter, with only muffled whisperings from the downstairs living room, when Daryl was woken from sleep by the twitching of fingers encased in his own. It took him a few seconds to understand the tickling against his palm before his eyes shot open and he lifted his head from the pillow.

He watched as Carol's eyes fluttered open to look into his own, and he couldn't stop the single outtake of breath that somewhat resembled laughter as he saw the recognition in them.

"Daryl?" she asked croakily.

"Yeah, it's me," he whispered, half smiling, half amazed, "you alright?"

"Think so," she replied tiredly, "where are we?" she asked, looking around her.

"House where you and Tyreese been staying," she frowned in confusion, "you passed out. I carried you here. The others are downstairs."

"But, this place was at least an hour from where we found you. You carried me all the way?" she asked.

"Mhmm," he replied, chewing the side of his thumb. She gazed at him with something akin to awe, and gratitude.

The silence stretched on as they looked at each other awkwardly, fingers still entwined against the mattress.

"Can't believe you're here," she whispered, breaking the silence, "thought I'd never see you again."

Her eyes seemed to well up, as her voice choked over the end of her sentence.

"But you found me," he replied gently, "and I ain't losin' you again." She smiled sadly at him.

"Don't say that. You don't know what you're saying," she whispered as she fought to hold back tears, "you don't know who I really am. What I've had to do."

Daryl shook his head.

"Ty told me everything. Told me about Lizzie and Mika," he mumbled quietly, "wasn't your fault."

A sob broke forth from Carol's chest and she released his hand, covering her face with both of hers.

"Hey, stop," he begged, pulling her hands away. The pain in her eyes almost broke his heart, "It wasn't your fault OK. I ain't blamin' you for what you had to do. You had no choice, I would'a done the same thing."

More tears sprung from her eyes as sob after sob wracked her body, and he couldn't bear to watch her.

He stood from his chair and pushed himself onto the bed beside her, lying with her and engulfing her in his arms. She buried her head in his chest, and let herself cry as he stroked her hair and hushed her gently, he on top of the covers and she underneath.

He held her and held her, for what felt like hours, before she stopped crying. She rolled back slightly from him, looking down, not daring to look into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely.

"Don't be," he replied. He tilted her chin up to look at him. "It's gonna be OK now."

She swallowed hard, sniffling as he wiped the tears from her cheeks, before breaking eye contact with him again. He leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, terrifying himself with the action, yet feeling it was the most comfortable thing he'd ever done. And he marvelled at how right it felt to have her in his arms, and at the overwhelming affection he felt for her in that moment.

She shuffled so that her head rested upon his bicep, his lips resting upon her head, as the need for sleep hit them both again.

"Thank you," she whispered, as her eyes closed again.

"Goodnight," he whispered into her hair, and she smiled at his breath ghosting over head. He was right, she knew. He was here now. Everything was going to be OK.


End file.
